


In a heartbeat

by starletes



Series: Blood of the rich [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: A little gore, Blades, Blood, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Jeremiah is a bastard and it's why we love him., Kidnapping, Knifeplay, M/M, Murderer, Set after 4x21, Vampire AU, Vampire Jeremiah Valeska
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 07:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starletes/pseuds/starletes
Summary: " He sucks greedily, almost not noticing the noise he was making from the pleasure of Bruce’s blood filling his stomach, the sensation of his heart thumping against his own. "One of those in which Jeremiah Valeska takes what he needs and Bruce can't help but not mind.





	In a heartbeat

It must be for the drugs that Bruce didn’t see Jeremiah’s silhouette lurking in the dark corner of the room. He didn’t make a dramatic reveal nor did he say a word and stayed as silent as a mouse, watching something that was either Bruce trying to get his hands out of the ropes or the wounds and now purple bruises that were a result of his unwillingness to go with Jeremiah so, for his own safety, he was seduced. Well, at least that’s what Jeremiah would say.

Bruce spent a great amount of time trying to figure out how the knots were tied but figured it was not any less useless than screaming or threatening the pale man watching him.

“I consider myself to be good when it comes to tying knots, they are not that different from mazes, Bruce, but it was fun watching you try.” He reveals himself finally, taking a few slow, gracious steps that synced with his monotonic voice.

Even at this lethargic state Bruce could tell it was Jeremiah, barely from the first sight. He wore nothing too unusual, the red glittery suit brought out his pale glass eyes and matched the color of the bloody lips as well as bringing some playfulness into the look as usually he would wear dark. His usual red gloved were a different shade than his suit which was rather triggering to Bruce. However it’s not what caught his attention the most, it was a deadly sharp razor blade that Jeremiah held upright, its tip brushing over the small bit of skin that was exposed from up the sleeve.

Jeremiah grasped the concern that Bruce radiated.

“I see you are concerned, you needn’t be.” He puts the weapon on a metal tray, right next to where Bruce was seated. He squirmed in his bindings when Jeremiah looked him dead in the eye, leaning forwards as if to take in the scent of his sweat that was almost dripping from Bruce’s forehead.

Bruce caught the small movements of Jeremiah’s eyeballs, it was as if he was searching for something in the other’s eyes, studying the dilated black pupils.

“You have such beautiful eyes, Bruce. Not that all of you isn’t beautiful, of course.” He speaks silently. “Eyes are the gates to one’s mind and soul, yours seem a bit lost. That pureness almost makes me regret my further actions, but it’s for a greater cause. Tell me, why are you fighting me so bad?”

Bruce’s heart skips every second beat and suddenly he is out of air. He swallows hard as his mind races.

“Jeremiah, just let me-“

“Shh… Darling, where would you go?” Jeremiah’s porcelain finger is suddenly pressed against Bruce’s lips. The boy can’t help but twitch at just how unnaturally cold it was.

The question made him startle, the lack of ability to focus was not helping to take things clearly and he can’t tell if it was only a sedative he was given or some other chemical, worse – another Scarecrow’s toxin!

“Before you panic, I want to inform you that your butler is safe as long as you stay here. Wouldn’t want him to get his spine broken or anything of that sort, would we?” He smiled viciously and there was something so badly off about it and yet Bruce couldn’t quite name it.

He was stuck between two options: he could act brave and put on a fight but really, that could only end with him being physically tortured or fed with drugs again. Second was stay as quiet and collected as possible and at least trick Jeremiah into thinking he was interested in whatever plans he had ready for him.

Jeremiah got bored of his silence quickly and grabbed his attention by taking hold of his chin, forcing eye contact.

“Tell you what, Bruce Wayne… You are going to die today. I was ready for a long play but I see the drugs have a long lasting effect that I have not anticipated so we’ll have to rush the business.”

Bruce flinched, trying to back away but it was no use as his head would only bump into the wooden back of the chair. Jeremiah’s manner of talking and overly placid tone as if he was discussing his Sunday schedule was scarier than the things he said.

There were a few moments of silence again, with Jeremiah holding his gaze on Bruce and him doing everything not to be hypnotised by it.

The kiss that Jeremiah suddenly decided to reward Bruce with came too unexpectedly for him to react, his tongue wiggled with Jeremiah’s almost as if it was initiated by him, giving in to Jeremiah’s spell. He felt his muscles tense, once again trying to get out of his ropes that were holding him back from warping his hands around Jeremiah’s neck and leaning into the sensation completely. 

Bruce blamed it on the drugs, or his imaginary world in which Jeremiah was the man he met that day, the man he’s grown to love and miss.

He pulled away, “God, I can hear your heart beating and it’s driving me wild, come here.” His tone switched to a breathless whisper so fast, just as fast as his bindings fell to the floor.

Bruce didn’t question his actions as doing what his body told him to was easier than thinking, at least in the state that he was. He hated himself, he hated Jeremiah too but as pictures of Alfred sinking in his own blood flashed through his mind he aggressively attacked Jeremiah with a rough kiss. He bumped into his jaw in the process and chuckled to himself as feeling his greatest foe’s tongue in his mouth felt rather resurrecting.

The sweetness ended when Jeremiah grasped a great strand of Bruce’s curls and exposed his pink, flushed throat. He watched as Bruce swallowed slowly, as if waiting for an explanation that Jeremiah was happy to give.

“I am a man of my word, Bruce. I wish I could comfort you, but this _will_ hurt. And it only depends on you just how much pleasure it will give you.”

Another hard swallow, in a bob of Bruce’s Adam’s apple Jeremiah held his blade pressed deep into his skin, not quite yet cutting, more like teasing and waiting for a response that didn't come.

“How long do you think you will breathe after I open your jugular?”

“If you are looking to kill me you should know that it’s not the vein you should cut.” Bruce dares, shutting his eyes.

“You are a brave boy, aren’t you? Well let’s just say I expect to enjoy what that vein is filled with first before killing you.” Here was that smile again and finally Bruce could make out what was so unusual about it. Inhuman sharp canines joined the rest of Jeremiah’s teeth, and he seemed to be reaching for another kiss but instead of landing on Bruce’s lips, he presses his teeth into his throat, that resulting in Bruce groaning. His hand slid into Jeremiah’s hair, fingernails digging into the skin there.

Jeremiah dropped his weapon and it only proved that it was here merely for the scene. Even being a found of knives that Jeremiah was, he couldn't miss the opportunity to run his fangs along the skin instead of the cold steal that would ruin the intimacy.

“I hope you know just how valuable you are. Not a second of your upcoming life will go to waste, I promise.” Jeremiah kisses the area just below Bruce’s earlobe, feeling the frantic pulse underneath the skin while dragging his teeth along it, his tongue flicking out every now and then, getting the marks wet. He was already on the edge and doubted his ability to stay upright and hold Bruce at the same time if he doesn’t take a sip just now. So he does.

He gave Bruce no warning, no sign before sinking his canines deep into his throat, possibly hitting the jugular just as promised. He had to hold the other’s body tighter as Bruce’s back arched up, his chest pressing to Jeremiah's, head falling back. This was forcing Jeremiah to reach for it in order to not let go of the life giving nectar fountain bellow his lips. He sucks greedily, almost not noticing the noise he was making from the pleasure of Bruce’s blood filling his stomach, the sensation of his heart thumping against his own.

He allowed himself a few pints before pulling back to take in the beauty of the mess he’s made of Bruce’s throat. “You taste divine. Not hell, not heaven... something more beautiful. You will soon know how rare it is.” He hisses, attacking the wet wound again, blood smearing his jaw and a few drops ending up on his suit.

He could feel Bruce holding on tight to the life, his heart refusing to slow even after a great amount of blood is lost and it’s only the 4th pint that finally makes his eyes roll back, his body releasing the tension and giving in to death. Jeremiah was too busy to pull away, emptying the vein still yet keeping track of the thumping. A song that was fading out so slowly and yet too quickly to be appreciated enough. He wanted to feel it, the last beat of his heart, the last exhaling, feel his last thought flash in his mind before it all ends and he is _his_. The eternity was just a few hours away.

 _Sleep my dark prince_.

**Author's Note:**

> I am thankful for any kind of feedback wether it's kudos or comments! uwu


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